


just a little further

by spaceburgers



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Youkai, M/M, and also robin hood leo, based on that snake youkai izumi card
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8297093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceburgers/pseuds/spaceburgers
Summary: A creature named Izumi, neither man nor animal. A hunter named Leo. And a chance meeting in the woods.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaywalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaywalk/gifts).



There once was a boy named Izumi.

What Izumi’s last name was, what his family was like, who his childhood playmates used to be—these are facts that have since been lost to time. Only fragments remain, snatches of memories that drift in an out of consciousness, too old to be fully corporeal.

Izumi remembers: the feel of a bow and arrow in his hands. He remembers a scene: a small wooden house with a rickety roof, a well-worn pathway into the forest. He remembers the smell of rain, the feel of dirt beneath his sandals, the faint cry of a bird in the distance.

He remembers how it felt: the rush of exhilaration running through his veins. His fingers tightening against the bow, arms poised and ready for a shot.

He remembers other things as well: a warm meal around a fire, his catch of the day—a boar, a pheasant, a deer—on the roast, voices praising him for his skill with a bow and arrow. He doesn’t remember who those voices he belonged to anymore. He closes his eyes and tries to put a face to them. A female voice. A deeper male one. He closes his eyes and all he can see is black.

It doesn’t matter, though. It was a long time ago.

He remembers a day like any other day. He remembers firing a shot, the feel of it in his hands, the sound of an arrow hitting its target.

He remembers the exact moment when he realized his target was no ordinary animal.

And this, this he remembers with the most blinding clarity of all. This still haunts his dreams, night after night, even though he’s tried desperately to forget.

He remembers the scene in front of him: a human, but not a human, and an animal, yet not an animal. A mangled half-human, half-snake being, surrounded by fallen leaves and branches and mud. Writhing on the floor, ugly and broken, twisted in on itself, red, red blood spilling from where Izumi’s arrow was lodged neatly in its side.

The _thing_ lying on the forest floor looked up at Izumi. Its eyes were a deep, deep black.

Izumi ran.

He remembers his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he thought he might die. His feet, pounding against the forest floor, his sandals long forgotten somewhere. His bow was gone too, where did it go? It didn’t matter. Izumi ran. He was looking for something, what was he looking for? The path, the path back to his village—there it was, the familiar dirt trail, and he followed it, up, up, up, as if once he returned to his home he could pretend that it was all just a dream—

Izumi remembers a scream.

A scream, directed at him. A woman bundling her child in her arms, turning away from him.

Izumi remembers the fear in her eyes.

He ran again, through the village, looking for someone, anyone to help him, but everyone he met turned away from him, screamed at him, called him a _monster_ —

Izumi remembers a pond. A pond? Was it a pond? Was it a lake? Was it a basin in someone’s back yard?

Izumi remembers looking at the water.

He remembers his reflection staring back at him.

The marks on his face. The marks on his body. He looked at his hands, and there were scales.

He looked back at the water, and the thing’s black eyes stared back at him. Except, no—they were Izumi’s own eyes. Izumi raised a hand to touch it, and in the water, his reflection did the same.

Izumi remembers doing the only thing he knew he could do.

He turned around, and he ran.

-

But this was a long time ago. The boy named Izumi no longer exists. The village no longer exists. Times have changed. It is now a bustling town, part of a larger kingdom, ruled by a king and his band of royal advisors. The house Izumi used to live in is gone. The dirt path that leads to the forest is now covered with grass and moss, cut off by a stone wall constructed by the new residents of the town.

Izumi has no use for kings.

Izumi has no use for humans.

The boy named Izumi no longer exists. The Izumi today is neither boy nor man, neither human nor animal.

He remains in his forest. It’s where he’s stayed for as long as he can remember.

He stays, perched in a tree, and he waits. What he’s waiting for, though, he can’t quite remember any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a beautiful day today.

It’s clear day, the kind where the sky is almost a shocking shade of blue. The clouds in the sky are almost perfect, like a painting, or an illustration in a picture book. There is a gentle breeze, tickling at the tree leaves.

Leo Tsukinaga walks through the forest, and he feels at peace.

The wind is still chilly, but he pays it no heed. He holds a bow in one hand and a pheasant in the other. It’s a good catch—it will make a good meal tonight. He imagines Ruka’s face when she sees it, and the thought it makes him smile, makes him whistle to himself as he walks.

He touches the barks of the trees as he walks, feels the way his boots dig into the grass underneath his feet. There are wildflowers, he realizes, and he stops to look at them, bending down with his chin cupped in his hands. He leans in close; they smell like spring. Leo straightens up, the smile on his face even broader now. He contemplates picking a few of them to take home to Ruka, but then decides against it. He’ll come back another day, he thinks. The flowers aren’t going to go anywhere, so—

Just then he hears a rustle in the trees. Leo acts almost entirely on instinct, he turns around, raises his bow, and shoots.

He doesn’t need to look to know that it’s a perfect shot.

He slings his bow over his shoulder, walks over to where his target is. He wonders what animal it is. A deer, perhaps. Or maybe even a bear if he’s lucky. Or—

 _That’s not a bear_ , Leo thinks.

His bow falls to the ground.

Leo’s heard legends about it. The half-human, half-snake spirit that protects the forest. But he’s always thought it was just a story that grown-ups made up to warn their children not to wander into the forest on their own; he’d thought it was just superstition, a myth.

This, though; this is undeniably real.

Leo falls to his knees, his hands shaking. The boy—well, not really a boy—lying on the ground is bleeding, his wound red and angry. Leo’s arrow is stuck cleanly under his ribs; he has one hand pressed against it, but it’s a futile effort at best. Before Leo can even think about it he’s extracting some bandages from his knapsack and leaning forward to help the boy dress his wounds.

The boy lifts his hand and bats Leo’s away.

“Go away,” he says.

His voice sounds perfectly human. Leo isn’t sure if he should be surprised.

“I don’t need help,” the boy continues.

“You’re hurt,” Leo returns.

“Stop,” he says.

“Let me help you,” Leo says.

The boy opens his mouth to say something else; but then Leo presses against his wound, and the only thing that manages to escape the boy’s mouth is a pained hiss. He shifts, and right in front of Leo’s eyes his form suddenly turns blurred; but then the moment passes, and he’s back to normal again.

Leo scoots closer, bandages in hand. The boy glares up at him.

“Why are you helping me?” he asks.

Leo blinks at him. He looks at the boy’s silver hair, his blue eyes narrowed in pain. Leo looks at the markings on his face, his shoulders—how he is almost completely human, but the markings on his skin give him away, identify him as something so much _more_ than human.

“You’re not my prey,” Leo replies.

The boy looks up at him. His expression is almost indecipherable.

“Fine,” he says, after a beat. “Do what you want.”

Leo smiles.

“Thank you,” he says. The boy doesn’t reply, just turns his face away. He remains silent the whole time as Leo dresses his wounds, as carefully as possible. Leo is clumsy; he’s not used to dealing with injuries that aren’t his own. Still, he keeps his touch light, wraps the bandage around the boy’s chest as best as he can manage. When he finishes he sits back on his heels, gingerly runs his hand across his handiwork. The boy turns to scowl at him.

“Now leave,” he says.

“What’s your name?” Leo asks.

The boy doesn’t reply. For a moment, he looks almost stunned. He looks—lost. Confused. He blinks at Leo, but his eyes are hazy and unfocused, as if fixed on some unknowable point in the distance.

“It’s,” he says, his voice faltering. He pauses. “Izumi.”

Leo tilts his head to the side. “Do you have a last name?”

The boy blinks. He looks down at the ground.

“No,” he says.

“Okay,” Leo says. “Izumi.”

Izumi blinks again. The confusion on his face clears immediately, replaced by a scowl.

“Go away,” Izumi says.

“My name is Leo,” Leo replies. “Leo Tsukinaga.”

Izumi remains silent.

“Where are you from, Izumi?”

No reply.

“How long have you been here?”

Izumi turns away.

“Are you—are you really the forest spirit?”

That manages to draw a huff from Izumi’s lips.

“I suppose you could say that,” he says. The bitterness in his voice is almost impossible to not notice. Leo almost winces at the sheer intensity of it; but he restrains himself, manages to keep his expression neutral. He reaches out instead, lays a hand on top of Izumi’s bandaged chest. Izumi flinches, turns away. Leo keeps his hand there, a steadying presence.

“Will you let me help you, Izumi?” Leo asks.

There is a long silence. For a long moment, neither of them move. But then slowly, so slowly it’s almost painful, Izumi turns to look at Leo, fixing him with his piercing blue gaze.

“Fine,” he says. “But don't expect any favors from me.”

“I don’t,” Leo says. He withdraws his hand, holds it out instead. Izumi looks at it.

He takes it.

His grip on Leo’s hand is strong even despite his weakened state. He hauls himself up into a sitting position, and Leo smiles at him. Izumi scowls back.

“Thank you, Izumi,” Leo says.

“Get out of here,” Izumi says.

And Leo does what he knows best: he laughs.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says. Izumi just stares at him like he’s crazy.

“I promise,” he adds.

“Get out of here,” Izumi says, and then as if by magic, he vanishes.

Leo blinks at the space formerly occupied by Izumi. Some of his blood is still there, soaking through the grass and soil. The arrow that Leo fired at him lies there, covered in dirt. The rest of him, though, is just—gone.

Eventually Leo stands up, slings his bow back over his shoulder. He looks at up at the sky; it’s starting to turn dark. He should head back soon, or Ruka’s going to get worried.

He sees the wildflowers again on his way back, soft and beautiful in the midst of the forest.

“I guess now I have another reason to come back tomorrow,” he says to himself, and smiles. 


End file.
